


your smile reminds me of a place that i can't put my finger on

by contradictory_existence



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-07 21:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contradictory_existence/pseuds/contradictory_existence
Summary: tell me what it’ll be like, aziraphale says. please.





	your smile reminds me of a place that i can't put my finger on

**Author's Note:**

  * For [extraordinarilyextreme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraordinarilyextreme/gifts).

> title from "luv note" by chloe moriondo

they are lying in the dark, the night and their wings cloaked warm and secure around them. it’s been a long day, what with averting the apocalypse and what not, but crowley doesn’t want to sleep. how can he, when aziraphale is here in his bed and his eyes are like stars in the shadows and his arms are wrapped tight tight tight around crowley. he never wants to leave.

_ tell me what it’ll be like, _ aziraphale says. _ please. _ crowley thinks for a bit, drawing a finger across one of aziraphale’s primaries and smiling as the angel’s eyes slip closed and he lets out a delicious sigh.

_ well, _ crowley begins slowly, _there’ll be a house, i think, or maybe a cottage. a bit south of here, close to town but still some ways away from all the traffic. _ he can feel aziraphale mumble against his skin, something like _ a stroke of demonic genius, darling, _and he swats lightly at aziraphale’s arm and shushes him.

_ cozy, _ crowley decides, _ but room enough to stretch our wings. space for your books and my plants, and some new ones too. bookshelves on every wall and lots of windows, you know, to let the sun in. a big couch in the living room, the statue i’ve got tucked in a corner, and that antique armchair you’ve had your eye on. a nice comfy bed, with lots of pillows, and a good lamp, so you can read in the evenings. _

_ read to me, _his mind supplies, and crowley feels his cheeks flush. his imagination tends to run wild when aziraphale is around, he can’t help it.

one _ tartan throw, _ he struggles on valiantly. _ that’s it, and it has to be soft, i’m warning you. _ he fixes aziraphale with what he hopes is a threatening glare, but is most likely a look of infinite fondness instead.

_ can we have a kitchen? _aziraphale asks, wiggling slightly in the sheets. his hands pet gently at crowley’s shoulder blades, where skin becomes scales become feathers.

crowley smiles indulgently. _ of course, _he says. he never could say no to aziraphale.

_ maybe i’ll learn to cook, _ aziraphale carries on excitedly. _ homemade meals would be nice, wouldn’t they? maybe a little breakfast nook in the corner, and a trellis outside where we can have picnics underneath, and invite adam and his friends over to play. do you think it’ll be close to the beach? they’d love that, and we haven’t been in ages, not since greece, do you remember, my dear, and oh! _ he stops suddenly, glances at crowley shyly through his lashes. _ maybe a garden? _

crowley’s breath catches in his throat, and he’s grinning so hard now he thinks his face might split in two. _ yeah, _ he says. _ i think a garden would be lovely, angel. _he can see it now—green, and vibrant, and wonderful. there are carnations and daisies, honeysuckles and sweet peas. ivy sprawled over walls and across fences, sunflowers with their roots burrowed deep into the soil and stems reaching up up upwards. tomatoes and basil, butternut squash and sage, whatever aziraphale wants, it’s all his.

aziraphale presses a kiss to the top of crowley’s head, strokes across the tattoo on his temple, uses his wings to pull him closer still. _ darling, dearest, sweetheart. _ he’s cupping crowley’s face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs over the trails where tears have started to run down his cheeks. _ are you alright? _

_ yeah, i’m fine, angel. _ crowley sniffles a bit. _ just, happy, you know? you make me so happy. _ he inches up the bed a bit so he can get a better look at aziraphale’s face and feels a surge of protectiveness run through him. just hours ago they were so close to losing it all, to losing each other, and they’re not done yet. can’t be, not now, when they’ve just started to sort things out and the air is alive with possibilities.

_ we’re going to get through this, okay? _ crowley says fiercely. _ just one more day. one more day and then we can have it all. the house, the garden, everything under the stars and then some, i swear, for as long as you want me. _

aziraphale gives him a radiant smile through watery eyes. _ oh, crowley, dear heart. how does eternity sound? _

after tomorrow, there will be no one left to hide from, no sides to care about but their own. tomorrow they will walk through hellfire and holy water and find their way back to each other in time for lunch at the ritz, which will turn into dinner at the ritz and a ride in crowley’s bentley and an evening in aziraphale’s bookshop. but tonight all they have is this corner of the world to themselves and the promise of a life together, and it’s more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: contradictory-existence


End file.
